


To Camelot

by controlledDestiny



Series: Through the Fade... [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Merlin (TV)
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lots of dialogue, and it's not guna be good by any means, and maybe too much 'exposition' i guess, and so is magic sometimes, but i like to share, the fade is a dick, this is guna update reeeeeal slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-08-24 21:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16648349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/controlledDestiny/pseuds/controlledDestiny
Summary: The first in a collection of fanfics where the Fade will be throwing one out of a few of my Inquisitors (I played the game many times, with many different Inquisitors) through a rift, into a new dimension.Saddle up for this shitty adventure!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First few chapters might be hecka short...

She screams, clutching at the anchor as it crackles and shines, sending lighting bolts of pain from her finger tips up to her shoulder and neck and even her head. She doesn't know why it's decided to flare up, or what happened to the friends she'd been traveling with, or why the only things she can hear are her own thundering heartbeat and a very loud waterfall. The only clear things to her are panic and pain and a sense of  _wrong_.

The sun had almost fully set when the pain forced her awake. The orange and pink glow of the sky had shone bright and blinding right in her eyes. Now, though, it quickly grows darker and darker as the pain ebbs away until the forest around her is nearly pitch black, save for the light of the full moon, and the nocturnal animals have come out to say hello, all while she writhes on the forest floor, holding her anchored hand to her chest and sucking air through her teeth. Hisses out expletives in her own language, the common tongue, and even throws in the few Qunlat curse words Bull has taught her.

The pain dulls along with her consciousness to a soft and periodic ache. Her other senses come back to her slowly but surely. Things are blurry and muted, like she's laying under water, but she can just make out a silhouette hovering over her. Can hear them speaking to her softly.

Being an Elf, her fight or flight instincts really kick in when she realizes that the shape is  _human_.

Most humans don't like Elves very much, and tend to either treat them like dirt or kill them on sight. So, of course, fight or flight instincts tell the injured Elf to try fleeing for her life. It doesn't happen, though. Because her body is too heavy and her arms don't want to cooperate and her vision makes her dizzy and nauseous as it swims in and out.

So instead she pleads for her life, like she swore to herself she never would when she was younger. She tells the Shem she has  _friends_  and  _loved ones_  and  _a duty to the realm._  Things, and more importantly  _people_ , that she needs to return home to.

Her head starts feeling a little too heavy, so she lays it on the grass. It lolls from side to side, making her look fever-crazed and delirious and maybe sort of drugged up.

She makes it half way through the entire speech again, this time in her own language, before everything fades out.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin is in the middle of fussing over the unconscious woman he found in the woods when Gaius comes back from his rounds. The boy shoots up when the door opens, turning wide eyes on the old man, and spends about a minute doing his best impression of a fish out of water.

"Who is this?"

"I, uh... I don't know? I- I found her. Out in the forest. She was hurt and scared so I just-"

Gaius sighs and waves Merlin out of the way so he can take a look at her.

Before he can get too close, though, she arches and screams. Her left hand glows and crackles with what looks like green lightning, the fingers on that same hand twitching like they ache to take hold of something. Then, suddenly, it all stops, and she drops back down onto the bed with a gasp. A few tears run down her cheeks as she somewhat relaxes.

"I've never seen anything like  _that_ before."

"What do you think it could be?"

"There are many explanations as to what it could be..." He gestures to her glowing hand, "If not for the light."

"So, is it a curse? Or a spell that backfired?"

"I don't think so."

Their patient groans and rolls onto her side, shudders, and then sighs quietly. Merlin gently drags the blanket from her waist up to her shoulders. She snuggles in under it and sighs again, looking a little more relaxed, a little more comfortable, but still in pain. The sweat on her brow and the constant grimace she wears, even in her sleep, is proof of that.

The green glow quiets down until it's barely visible, her hand hanging limp over the edge of the bed.

It takes a full day for the woman to regain consciousness.

And when she does it's a loud and rambunctious affair.

Merlin wakes up in his own bed, bright sunlight coming in through the window, to screaming from the main room. He rushes out to see what the problem is only to find their guest with her back flush against one wall, and Gaius on the opposite side of the room looking a little shocked. There's a broom in the woman's hands, held like a broadsword, ready to strike if she feels threatened.

"Who are you and who do you work for?! The Venatori? Red Templars? Corypheus?"

Merlin steps between the two of them, pushing Gaius behind himself, and holds a hand out towards the skittish girl in what he hopes is a friendly gesture. "Please, calm d-ow"

"Is this your revenge for killing your Elder One?!"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Well, If  _I'm_  going down I'm taking  _you_  with me!"

She charges at them with the broom held high above her head, but Merlin throws it from her hands with a look. She stops the second it slips through her fingers and watches as it hits the wall, then falls to the floor. After a second of dumbly watching it, she turns to stare at them with wide eyes.

"Calm down. No one is going to hurt you."

She narrows her eyes at him with a frown. It's a very  _I Don't Believe You_  look.

"Why would I bring you home and help you if I was just going to hurt you? I mean, that might make sense if this were a dungeon, but..." He gesture around them, at the shelves of books and bottles. It very obviously  _isn't_  a room made for torture.

"...Right."

The tension leaves her slowly but surely once she takes a seat on the bed she'd used last night. Her head falls into her hands.

" _Ma melava halani._ " She whispers to herself.

"What?"

"You helped me." She translates, voice firm, and looks up at the two of them. Her expressions shows pure exhaustion and maybe a little uncertainty.

"Of course I did, you were  _wounded_! Why wouldn't I help you?"

"You're human. Humans don't usually care much about what happens to my kind."

"Your kind?"

"Elves."

"Elves..." She can see the second the information really sets in, and the expression on the boy's face is funny enough to get a reluctant smile out of her. It almost looks like he can't believe she even  _exists._ Which is a stupid thought because  _everyone_  knows about Elves, even small children. " _Elves?!_  You're an  _Elf?!_ "

 _Of course_   _it wasn't obvious_ , she realizes belatedly. Her ears have been pinned down under her hair this whole time! Have been since she left Skyhold, actually. It's been close to a week since they set foot outside the castle walls. She feels sort of dumb for not realizing it sooner, considering how sore the poor things are at the moment.

So she reaches up and undoes the clips keeping chunks of hair over her ears, which keep her 'knife ears' pressed against her skull, then shakes her head to let her hair fall naturally where it should. Her ears are slightly longer and point out to the side a bit more than most Elves' ears do, meaning it's even more obvious that she's an Elf when she isn't actively trying to hide the fact.

She lets the humans have a moment to stare, then heaves a sigh and runs a hand down her face.

Time to get back to the important things, like-

"Was I alone when you found me?"

"O-oh, um, yes." The boy answers.

"Shit..."

 _You took them out into the Emerald Graves for **no good reason** , _a voice in her head supplies bitterly.  _They're lost because you wanted a break from your duties. And when Bull sent Krem in his place, you were dead-set on going, just to get him alone._

 _Nice one. Great job._   _Exemplary work. You're the **best**_.

 _The sarcasm is unnecessary_ , she thinks to herself. And the voice.

She sighs again.

"Were you with someone?"

"Yes. Four men."

"I'm sorry. Nobody was there when I found you."

She hunches forward, dropping her head into her hands as she hisses out another, much angrier, "Shit!"

Merlin takes a tentative step towards her, and when the woman doesn't flinch or glare at him for it he decides closing the distance probably won't end with him dead. Once he's standing next to her he gently lays a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She looks up at him, tears pooling in her eyes, and gives him a wobbly smile.

"There is one man, with a _fabulous_ mustache, who can be a little... I think 'over the top' is a good way to put it. Another will be in a full suit of armor. And the last will be a blonde boy in a large hat who can be a little... _cryptic_."

She gives them a little while to process everything. About two minutes, she thinks, is all it takes, and then the boy finally replies.

"We can go out to look for them when you're in better shape, if you'd like."

" _Ma serannas_." She says, "Thank you."

He smiles and asks, "Can you tell me your name?"

"Ah, right. Mehris Lavellan. You can call me by either of them."

She offers her hand to him, and he takes it gently. She squeezes hard and shakes it a few times, then lets go. The poor human looks shocked by the amount of strength she put behind the gesture, staring at his hand like it's just been cut off at the wrist. After he composes himself he looks her in the eyes and starts on his own introductions.

"I'm Merlin, and this is Gaius."

The old man bows politely instead of saying 'hello'.

"Now that we've gotten to know each other, why don't we get a drink? I need something strong and disgusting to make myself feel better. Does the tavern here serve  _Maraas-Lok_?"

"I don't think so, sorry."

"Well, if it smells horrible it's usually strong." She says with a shrug. "So I'll just have to order the closest thing to sewer water they serve."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this chapter because certain details in new chapters keep changing


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic isn't very exciting yet, is it?
> 
> Sorry

Merlin does his best to help Mehris blend in. He lends her some of his clothes, teaches her what she should and shouldn't do around Camelot, and then wraps up her glowing hand to keep the light well hidden. She pins her ears back down on her own as she gripes about how sore they're going to be later.

Once she's dressed and ready to go they head out into town.

She grabs his arm so she won't get lost.

It's been dark for an hour or so now, meaning most people are holed up in their homes. But a good number of men are taking up space in the tavern/inn's barroom, leaving very little room for new patrons. Merlin wants to smack himself for thinking he wouldn't see anyone he knew tonight when he spots The Knights sitting around a table together. They spot him too, and wave him over.

Merlin drags her with him.

Mehris is confused, and maybe panics just a little bit until she hears the friendly teasing tone one of the strangers uses when he speaks to her new friend.

"Out on a  _date_ , Merlin?" One asks, grinning.

"What?" He turns to look at her, a slight delay in connecting the comment to the woman standing at his side. " _Oh!_  Oh, No! No, no-"

"Right. Couldn't be." Another teases, also grinning.

"Far too pretty for him." The first one agrees with a nod.

"How kind." She smiles and gives them all a half-bow. "And also correct. This is  _not_  a date, because I  _don't date_."

 _Because I have my eye on a certain mercenary,_ she adds just for herself.

"What a shame." The first one says wistfully, though it doesn't sound very sincere. Mehris doesn't know whether to laugh or feel offended. The man offers her his hand suddenly before she can decide. "Gwaine."

She takes it and gives it a good hard squeeze, much like she did with Merlin earlier, "Mehris Lavellan."

"Strange name for a strange girl." He replies.

He does a very, as Mehris recalls,  _human-etiquette-thing_  and brings her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles gently. It's not swoon-worthy, or enticing, just... off-putting to be quite honest. Why do human men think this is charming? All she wants to do now is wipe her hand on the back of her pants, even though Gwaine left nothing behind for her to clean off.

But that would be rude, so she refrains.

"Yes, because  _Gwaine_  isn't a strange name  _at all_." She shoots back with a smirk.

"Ah, you got me there."

Then, it's introductions 'round the table.

Percival is the tallest, and very quiet. He nods and says his name but wont meet her eyes. Not in a shy way, though. Maybe because it makes him uncomfortable? They  _are_ strangers after all.

Leon is the curly-blonde with a nice smile that reminds her of Cullen. Just by looking at him, she can guess he's the head of their little group. The leader, commander, whatever they call it here. He scoots over on the bench to give her a seat, and she slips into the small space gracefully with a nod as thanks.

Gwaine. A little cocky and sort of a flirt. Probably spends most of his time in the Tavern hitting on anyone with a pretty face. The kind of human she thinks would be kind to her people without expecting something in return. 'Laid-back' would be a good term, she thinks.

Lastly, Elyon. The only knight that isn't pale as she is. He smiles and offers her a hand, and she gives him the same display of strength she gives every man who wants to shake her hand. When he lets go he gives Gwaine a  _look_ , and the flirty human nods, giving him the same look back.

It gets a little weird when Mehris asks one of the workers for  _Maraas-Lok_. The woman gives her a weird look and hesitantly tells her she doesn't know what that is.

"Ah, so that's a no-go on getting horribly, numbly, paralyzingly drunk, then?" She jokes, and the woman gives her a confused but amused smile before wandering away.

"Very,  _very_  strange." Gwaine remarks quietly. Then, he turns to Merlin, who's squished himself into the spot between Gwaine and Elyon. "Where did you find her, Merlin?"

He looks to Mehris for permission, and when she nods says, "Unconscious, out in the woods."

"I had a bit of a hunting accident." She adds.

"Hunting?"

"Yes,  _hunting_."

"By yourself?" Leon asks.

"No." She focuses on the table, her heart suddenly deep in her stomach and a lump in her throat. "I had some friends with me, but they weren't around when I was found."

"What kind of hunting accident makes people disappear?"

The kind where you're under equipped to deal with something extremely dangerous, see that something, and think 'let's attack it' instead of 'we should run away now' and your friends go along with it because  _they trust you with their lives,_ apparently.

 _That_  dampens her mood just a bit. All but one of the knights seem to pick up on her change in demeanor.

"Normally you'd at least find a  _body_ , right?"

Another of the knights elbows that one in the ribs to shut him up, then gives him a  _look_. Mehris purses her lips and stares at a knot in the wood of the table as the men around her awkwardly start a new conversation, and the server comes back just as they all start laughing to place a very big tankard in front of her.

She immediately swipes it up and downs the entire thing in one go. When she finishes it she slams the empty thing down on the table  _hard_ , looks to Merlin, and tells him outright with a straight face-

"I just realized I have no money."

She'd had a lot,  _before,_ along with a pack full of things she'd brought from Skyhold. And a few things she'd picked up while wandering around the Emerald Graves. But when she'd asked about it on the way to the Tavern Merlin told her she had nothing like that when he found her. No pack, no weapons, no coin purse.

Either, someone had stripped everything off what they thought was her  _corpse_ , or she lost them all while passing through the Fade.

"No worries there." Elyon says and claps Merlin on the back, "Merlin here likes to send his tab right to the king, which means you're covered for the night. Drink up."

Merlin's face falls into one of his hands as he lets out a sigh. His smile is tight and resigned.

His reaction says  _things_.

Could someone be racking up a tab in his place, and then sending it to the Castle to put him on the King's shit-list? But, wait, if it's a  _regular occurrence_  and he hasn't been jailed or killed yet, doesn't that mean it's fine?

With a shrug she decides she can worry about the morals of the situation later, orders another drink, and settles in for a night of getting wasted.

"So, besides your terrible hunting trip, do you have any interesting stories to share?"

Gwaine smiles as the rest of the knights lean in to look at her. Merlin gives her a nod, and she snorts, because since when did she need a Shem's permission to simply  _talk_.

* * *

"She stole their  _breeches!_  Not their weapons, but their fucking  _breeches!_ " She shakes her head with a grin, "They came running out, naked from the waist down, and attacked. Probably more because they were pissed about their poor, expensive  _pantaloons_." She finishes in a mocking tone.

Everyone around the table laughs well and loud.

Sera, back then, had seemed like the  _best_  new ally she could ever ask for. And only seemed better and better the more she prattled on. She still is, but sometimes Mehris needed a break from the fast-paced and utterly confusing way the woman usually spoke.

"And once they're all dead, she  _hands me them in a bag!_ Just,  _'here, yours, take it'._  They sold for a decent price at least."

"Sounds like you've got some strange friends." Gwaine, the only one who seems to be able to hold his liquor as well as her, says as he pats her on the back once. "Suits you."

"Hey! Don't you talk down to me like that!" She responds loudly and childishly, fake pouting at him. "I deserve more respect."

A sentiment she'd never actually believed, and therefore never said. It doesn't sound right to her own ears when it's  _her voice_  that says it.

"Yes, yes. Ladies deserve all the respect. Sorry 'bout that."

"Not a lady." She mutters.

"Then what are you?"

Herald of Andraste.

Inquisitor.

Your Worship.

(She only likes hearing the last one when a certain Mercenary from Tevinter calls her by it, though.)

"I've killed-" She stops to count them on her fingers, though it's fairly unnecessary. "- _two_ Dragons. With help, but still."

Gwaine whistles like he's impressed, but she can tell it's sarcastic. The asshole doesn't believe her one bit.

She grumbles incoherently as she lays her head on the table, and looks up to see who else is even semi-conscious at their table. At teh end of her search she catches Merlin's eye, and  _oh no_. The poor boy looks absolutely terrified for a split second before he seems to snap out of it, schooling his expression into...  _something else_.

The two don't talk again until the morning.

Mehris plans on pretending she remembers  _nothing_  after her first story. But then Merlin solemnly brings it up that morning, so her plan flies right out the Nug-humping window.

"Last night, you mentioned Dragons. How you've killed a couple. Have you, really?"

Mehris hums an affirmative, too hungover for proper words. That, and she feels like this conversation is just ridiculously awkward, so words don't seem like a great idea at the moment. She's never been very good with them, anyway.

The human won't look at her, even though she's staring right at him. She watches as he furrows his brow and purses his lips.

Listens to his nervous, hesitant, "Why?"

"Well, one was under the control of a _monster_ called Corypheus." That thing, Corypheus' pet, they still haven't decided if it was an Archdemon or just a Dragon he'd wrangled into obeying him. "The other attacked  _us_  first. I try to avoid the beasts as much as possible, but sometimes it's impossible."

Merlin nods slowly, then hands her a plate of food.

He seems less apprehensive around her again, which is nice, because she'd been wondering if she was suddenly going to end up alone in this weird land. Again. Like when she'd landed in the first place. And all because she couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut after a few too many drink.

"I've got the day off, apparently. Would you like to go out and look for your friends?"

She grins, one cheek stuffed with bread, and nods.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Why can't we find them?!"_

Her voice echoes loudly through the forest, angry and tired and unbelievably sad all at once.

They've been out searching for her friends for Maker only knows how long. Long enough for the sun to set from it's high place in the afternoon sky, she notes, so a few hours at least. And yet they've found nothing. They've found absolutely fucking  _nothing_  to prove that her companions are here and alive.

Or, possibly,  _not_  alive.

But she doesn't like to think about that right now.

"It's a big forest. They could be farther away than we thought, or they wandered off and got lost."

"Or they're  _dead._ "

"Well, let's not jump to the  _worst_  possible conclusion so soon."

"Maybe we  _should!_ " She shouts, clenching her fists at her sides until her knuckles are white as snow. "Because  _I'm_  the one who dragged them out into the wilds and  _I'm_  the one who spotted that Rift and  _I'm_  the one who-"

The Anchor crackles on one hand while fire comes to life in the other.

This always happens when she loses her temper. Her magic, fire or lightning usually, comes to life on it's own until she has no choice but to lash out with it, because the magic wont just dissipate while she's like this. And so she does just that, here and now, hurling a ball of fire bigger than her head at a tree in front of them.

It hits the trunk of a thick tree and explodes, the display not quite big enough to draw attention or start a proper fire, but just enough to make Merlin flinch. After that, there's a long stretch where the only noise for miles is Mehris' heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of the forest surrounding them.

The pain that the green-glowing Elven-Artifact-inflicted  _bullshit_  sends up her arm threatens to make her knees buckle.

She screams, " _I'm_  the one who got them  _killed!_ "

Afterwards, another stretch of quiet. But, eventually, Merlin's thoughts absolutely have to be made known so he blurts out-

"You have  _magic_."

 _Right to the point,_ she thinks. _Wonderful._

There's a solid, nearly silent pause before she responds with confidence, "Yes. I am a Mage."

Merlin simply blinks at her.

"You don't have to be scared of me. I'm not possessed. No Demons or Spirits in here."

"I... wasn't worried about that? We have Mages in Camelot. Kind of. I mean, people who practice magic here are called Sorcerers, but, yeah."

"And let me guess: Magic is a big  _no-no_ here?"

"Yep."

 _That_ seems to be a running theme no matter where one ends up.

"Are you going to turn me in?" She asks calmly, fists planted firmly on her hips.

"Never." He replies with a grin, "Why would I sell out one of my own?"

Mehris doesn't need to stop and think about that. She understands immediately. He's not an  _Elf_ , so-

"The broom."

His grin widens, and she mirrors it.

They call it a day on looking for her friends.

When Merlin almost starts a forest fire and Mehris nearly freezes them both to death trying to put it out, they call it a day altogether.

The whole outing ends in a mess of dirt and soot and fingers that feel like they've been jammed in snow for hours. But also, laughter, and a warm feeling that spreads through Merlin's chest at being able to use magic freely in front of someone else. That 'someone' also having magic is just a brilliant bonus.

Even with their near brush with a fiery demise, and almost freezing to death afterward, it's a good day overall. They chat on the way back through the forest, telling each other stories from their respective homes and magical mishaps that distract Mehris from the sinking feeling in her gut, put there from coming up empty handed in their search for her friends.

But the woman seems a little happier, despite the doom-and-gloom simmering just under the surface.

As they make their way across the fairly short distance between Camelot's gates and the edge of the forest, Merlin asks her all sorts of questions under his breath. From what spells she's best at, to what she's worst at, to how old she was when she started practicing.

"I was fairly young, and spent many sleepless nights learning everything I could as quickly as I could, so that I'd beat out the others for First of the clan. Yourself?"

"I was born with it."

"Well, yes,  _every_  Mage is  _born_  with it."

"What?"

She rolls her eyes, "You can't just  _learn_ magic if you've never had The Dreams."

"Nobody who knows magic has ever had special dreams. Not unless they're a Seer."

"Shit, I knew this wasn't the same world I'm from." She mutters, frowning at her feet as she walks. "That much was obvious. I just didn't think it would be  _so different_."

" _A different world?_ " Merlin eyes look like they're about to pop right out of his head, "How can you tell?"

"The moon." She chirps, like this isn't a serious conversation at all. Like he should just  _get it_. "It's too far away."

"What?"

"And I haven't seen one familiar-looking herb or animal since we started our scavenger hunt this morning."

" _Oh_ -kay, well, do you know how to get home?"

"Same way I always end up in some Fade-related bullshit." She holds up her bandage-wrapped hand, the one that normally glows, and wiggles her fingers. "Just need to find my friends so we can all go home together."

"Right. Yes. Of course."

"Maybe I can bring you along, so you can see what it's like?" She asks as she twirls around to walk backwards while Merlin keeps looking ahead. "Imagine, an arse-load of mages all in one place, running the show and using their abilities in the open."

"Sounds nice. We'll have to plan the trip around the King and his affinity for attracting danger, though."

"Mmm, yes, can't have the Royal Bodyguard running off and leaving his Royal Prat-ness behind, can we?"

Merlin chuckles. "No, we really can't."

Mehris walks with a slight skip in her step after that. She's always been easy to cheer up with the prospect of making new friends, especially when those possible friends are other Mages. Even the anger and sadness of not finding her companions isn't so crushing in at the moment.

"And, alright, I've just  _got_ to ask... why are you  _constantly_  barefoot?"

It's so random, so mundane a question, that she ends up laughing. The sound that comes out of her mouth is so unladylike that she imagines Josephine and Vivienne scowling at her in disappointment. And she's still giggling about it as they pass the Knights posted at front gate.

The walk to Gaius' chamber is filled with staring from strangers, wondering glances that ask what in Hell the two of them could have gotten up to while still looking so happy. Thankfully, it's a quick stroll from the gate to their destination. Neither of the two can handle too much attention.

As the two Mages walk through the door Gaius gives them a once-over and, signature raised eyebrow in place, asks-

"And  _what_ , pray tell, happened to the both of you?"

They stare at him, turn to each other (which is when Merlin points to the right side of his own face to indicate her own is filthy), then glance down at themselves, and finally turn back to Gaius, looking sheepish and embarrassed. They both know the old man is clever enough to recognize any lie they might give him, and so, before they say  _anything_ , Mehris pushes the door closed with a quick flick of her wrist and another giggle as she wipes a bit of dirt and soot from her cheek with her sleeve.

"Ah..." He says with a sigh and a nod, and turns back to his half-finished poultice. "At least assure me the two of you were careful. Nobody saw anything, correct?"

"I've been hiding my gift from Humans my entire life, why would I slack off now?"

"Maybe, then, you could teach Merlin to better his abilities not only in Magic, but in Stealth as well?"

"I'd love to!"

She moves away to take off her leathers, leaving her in just a tight-fitted tunic and a pair of soft-looking shorts, the only parts of her outfit that aren't smudged with filth. She's effectively half naked, but apparently has no issue with them seeing her... everything? Which is confusing for Merlin.

Mehris doesn't seem at all in a hurry to cover herself.

Merlin forces himself to at least keep his gaze towards the ceiling or the floor out of respect for her privacy. Because  _she_  obviously doesn't have a damn clue what 'privacy' is. But Gaius is a physician, meaning he's seen plenty of people in  _less_  than their smalls, so he's got no issues with it whatsoever. He doesn't look away, but he doesn't stare either. Always a professional.

"Wonderful. Now," Gaius comes over to them, places a hand on Merlin's bony shoulder, and pushes him down onto the cot behind them. "Let me take a look at that."

"What?"

"Maker's  _Balls,_  how do you not  _feel_  that?"

"Feel what?"

"Shirt. Off.  _Now_." She orders in a tone that could compete with Arthur's when he's pissed at Merlin for some reason or another (usually stupid ones).

"Are you going to heal me?" Merlin asks her, grinning as he starts to pull at the hem of his tunic. "Magic it all better? You good at that?"

"Of course! Who do you think heals my reckless friends after they scamper off into danger without a second thought? Some non-Mage with limited supplies?"

"I suppose not."

"Not everyone is as bad at healing magic as  _you_ , my boy."

" _Thank_   _you_ , Gaius, I  _really_  needed that self-esteem boost today. Truly."

The old man ignores Merlin's sarcasm, turning to Mehris with a polite smile and his medicine bag in hand. "If you have this handled, I'd like to do one last round for the day."

"Of course." She replies with a bow.

The politeness she shows the old man always seems to amuse him in some small way, she's noticed. And it does this time as well, apparently, because he chuckles and exits.

The first time she'd been overly polite to Gaius, even calling him  _Hahren_  (purely out of habit, she's told them both), Merlin had made some snarky comment about her having swung at his head with a broom not too long ago, and she'd cuffed him upside the head for it. A short-and-sweet explanation came afterward, about it being part of how she was brought up, that had Gaius joking about how Merlin could learn something about respecting his elders from her, and they'd both laughed at his dramatic pout-and-glare combination.

"Having trouble?"

Merlin is caught (probably because of his big ears) with one arm out of it's sleeve and the other chicken-winged in it's own, his head half-way though the neck hole, leaving his hair sticking up in places. Seems he was trying to get himself undressed with only one arm, keeping his burnt appendage mostly still, and it obviously hadn't worked.

"Useless  _Shem_." She teases and meanders over to help him out. "Your people call us Dalish 'savages' and yet you lot can't even manage to undress yourselves on your own."

"I'd say that's just me being me but Royals tend to make their servants dress them, so..."

She barks out a laugh as she takes hold the sleeve that's trapped him and helps loosen it enough so he can straighten the arm and remove it from it's cage, then moves to grab the shoulders of the garment and pulls it up roughly. The whole process makes Merlin feel like a small child who's mother needs to help him dress for the day ahead. It's something children go through until they learn to do it on their own, but also something a majority of adults don't want to experience again unless-

Merlin shakes his head inside the chest of his tunic to clear away the thought.

Finally, the damned thing comes off and Merlin can see the world again. The ball of dirty fabric is tossed to the side as Mehris steps between Merlin's knees, leaning forward to take a better look at him. The burn on his arm was only visible due to a hole in the sleeve, but there could easily be more elsewhere. Bruises or cuts or minor burns, something painful but hidden. And the Elf intends to check her friend over properly whether he wants to cooperate or not.

The scar on his chest catches her eye as she scans his shoulders for wounds. It spreads out like someone had thrown a ball of paint that was just  _a tiny_ bit off from Merlin's usual pallor, at his chest, and it splattered outward, staining his skin permanently. After a moment to think it over she lightly presses her fingertips to one of it's more faded edges, feeling sympathetic. Her mind on her own scars from some rather nasty battles.

Of course, before she can ask what it's from, the door busts in.  _Loudly_. Like someone's either thrown or kicked it open. It rattles the shelves and tables, and there's the faint sound of wood splintering slightly. A moment of panic that shoots through both Mages hearts, a quick and devastated  _'this is it'_  brushing past both their minds as they turn to see who's just interrupted them.

 _So much for healing spells_ , she thinks with a sigh when she sees who's there.

It's the flirtatious Knight, with the nice hair,  _Gwaine_ , standing there with a shit-eating grin and mischief twinkling in his eyes. There's a quick second where they stare at him, and he simply stares back. But then he lets out a low whistle before leaning backwards out the door and into the hallway so he can shout out, "You owe me ten gold, you doubtful prick!"

Merlin squeaks out a confused and horrified  _what_ from his place on the cot as two other men come into view. Another of the Knights they'd had drinks with the night before (Cullen-ish and awkwardly sweet) and a new face. Blonde, blue-eyed, and scowling as he pushes past the other two Knights.

Gwaine taunts the blonde with a triumphant  _'and you didn't believe me when I said he'd found himself a pretty girl!'_  and that ever-present smirk as the man stomps into the room, coming to a full stop only a few steps away from the Magically Inclined pair, and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Well, at least you're not in the tavern this time,  _Mer_ lin."

"I-"

"But still, shirking your duties to spend time with your new lady friend? It's just..." He shakes his head, heaving out a put-upon sigh. "I don't even have a word for it."

"But you-"

He's about to cut Merlin off with yet another rudely undeserved reprimanding sentence when Mehris interrupts, making a simple but rather resounding noise. She struts from her place between Merlin's knobby knees over to the first Knight.  _It's Gwaine_ , right? She can't quite remember past the haze of booze and the fact there were four of them to remember at the time. He may as well be the one named Elyan.

"What kind of bets have you been making about me, you flirty, Halla-humping-"

" _Whoa!_  Calm yourself, Dragon Slayer!" He throws up his hands in surrender, "T'was but a joke! We never made any bet!"

Her eyes narrow. Her lips purse. She looks him up and down, then give him a grin that's all teeth and reaches up to pat him on the head. The action is made a little tough by the height difference. "Good boy."

_Best to show 'em who's boss, yeah? Just 'cause I'm small, it doesn't mean I'm to be messed with!_

When she's far enough away for his liking Leon leans forward to murmur in Gwaine's ear, "For such a tiny woman she's rather frightening, aye?"

"Terrifying." He jokes back just as quietly, but with a bright smile.

"Now if you'll excuse us, Sers, Merlin needs help with a rather nasty burn and Gaius has asked me to see to it."

The blonde still demands an explanation for Merlin's apparent  _'shirking of duties'_. Merlin, through pained hisses at his wound being cleaned, attempts to come up with a decent lie but is left a stuttering mess under Mehris' medical attention and the blonde man's glare. Though, at the very least he manages to get out that he was helping someone with something important.

"Out looking for your friends, Dragon Slayer?"

She rolls her eyes, "Only  _you_  could make the title sound like an insult, you  _arse_."

Gwaine laughs. Leon chuckles. Blondie is  _not_  amused.

"You should be showing more respect to the Knights of Camelot."

"Princess-" Gwaine tries at the same time Merlin pipes up with a pleading, "Arthur-"

"No,  _Mer_ lin. We might let  _you_ get away with it but if I let  _everyone_  do the same, then-"

"You're a Knight as well?" She cuts in. Her eyes never leave Merlin's arm as she wraps his burn, and her tone projects  _disinterest_  and  _annoyance_ and  _piss off_. "It's unfortunate that we weren't able to meet last night, then, because maybe it would've shown me which of the Knights could be such-"

"Mehris!" Merlin hisses.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Her voice is all  _care_  and  _concern_  now. The sudden change is enough to give every Human in the room emotional whiplash.

"Sire," Merlin turns to Blondie and bows as much as he can from where he's sitting, "I was told by another servant that you'd dismissed me for the day."

( _George_. George had told him. George, who wasn't normally petty, but might've gotten fed up with Arthur keeping Merlin's useless hide around, and therefore decided to sabotage his job as the King's personal manservant. And Merlin... can't really blame the guy. He would probably do the same thing. )

" _Really..._ "

He obviously doesn't buy it.

"Really, Sire. And, may I add that I didn't just  _laze about_  while not at your beck and call. I was trying to help Mehris-" He gestures to her, and she waves sarcastically before getting back to the last bit of her bandaging duties. "-find her missing friends."

"We settled down for lunch. Merlin made a fire to cook it up, and then tripped into it."

Merlin's face practically  _burns_  when she pulls his head towards her to squash his cheek against her ribs, ruffles his hair, and affectionately mumbles ' _poor, adorable idiot'_ just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

"Ah, a quick brush-up on your hunting skills?" Gwaine teases, because of course he would after she told the knights she'd lost her friends while on a hunting trip. It's not unkind, though. The way he jokes about it.

She nods and replies, "Caught a rabbit."

"Surprised Merlin didn't try talking you out of it." The blonde says, "He always does when he comes out with us."

"I must be  _special_ , then." She says, just to annoy the dumb  _Shem_ , and shrugs.

"And who are you, exactly?"

She tucks the end of the linen bandage around Merlin's bicep into the top of itself to keep the dressing from unraveling, even though one would usually do the job with a pin, and pats it gently. The lazy finish a reassurance to Merlin that she'll finish the job with magic later, when everyone's gone.

"Mehris Lavellan. Traveler, smart-ass, and occasional Healer."

"Another healer? Wonderful. Gaius could certainly use some proper help.".

Still not in a believing mood, according to his tone of voice. And the way he's glaring at her.

"Speak your mind,  _Shemlen_. I'm  _all ears_." She jokes bitterly through gritted teeth, "Absolutely  _dying_  to know what kind of  _horrible things_  you're thinking of me during our very first meeting."

He at least has the decency to look a little guilty at the accusation.

"I am not here by choice, I am here because of a shitty accident and even shittier people. I have not come to harm your kingdom, and I only ask that my companions are found. Then, and only then, will I leave."

"Very well." He concedes, "But I would ask that you do not keep anyone from their jobs while you're here."

"Yes, yes. I wouldn't dream of inconveniencing anyone by distracting the servants." She says, but her tone says she doesn't actually give a shit. "But I would like to remind you, another servant passed on a false message, leading to this whole ordeal. Maybe someone wanted Merlin to get in trouble, yeah?"

"Right..."

There are no more words shared. Arthur simply turns and leaves, Leon trailing after him. Gwaine stays behind to make conversation and joke about his fellow Knight's snippy attitude, and after a few rounds of conversing about nothing in particular, Mehris finally feels the need to ask-

"Why 'Princess'? Surely there are  _better_ things to call him?"

"I'm partial to 'Prat', myself. Or 'Clotpole'." Merlin says with a shrug, and then adds, " _Dollophead_."

"Arse-Biscuit." Mehris supplies.

Gwaine barks out a laugh at that. Figures the two of them could end up a force to be reckoned with, if left to their own devices too long.

"I met Arthur when he was still a right spoiled arse. And to be honest, it was less friendly when I said it then." He explains, "When I became a Knight, I thought he'd put a stop to it, being the King and all-"

"King?" She asks dryly.

Gwaine hums and nods. "You just had yourself a tiff with King Arthur of Camelot, M'Lady."

Both men expect her to shrink into herself, to panic, to at the very least blush in embarrassment. Instead, she shrugs one shoulder lazily and says, "Not the first King I've had a disagreement with. Though,  _Alistair_  at least came to the banquet after all the bullshit and  _apologized_  for being a right horse's ass."

* * *

She wanders out again. This time by herself, as Merlin has to work for that Royal Pain-in-the-Arse all day today.

A few hours away from the walls of Camelot, she happens upon a traveler. They wear a dark cloak with the hood pulled over their face, a pack that looks all too familiar on their back, and a hold stick in each hand that look oddly like the two ends of a staff. She doesn't call to them, doesn't approach them, doesn't make a noise. And yet, they notice her. Turning and smiling, they happily offer the broken staff and her pack to her without a word.

It obviously isn't some kind of a trap. Simply kindness from a stranger.

A stranger who knows these things belong to her.

"Did  _you_  take them?"

They nod. "If you'd walked into Camelot with obvious magical items in hand, you'd have been put to death."

"You knew I'd be back out here sooner or later, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Without a second thought she bows and says, " _Ma serannas_. I cannot think of any proper way to repay you."

"There is no need."

"Then I offer a piece of my home." She takes the pack, but gently pushes back the hand that holds her broken staff. "A bit of my people's magic for you, friend."

Her new anonymous cohort smiles again and waves their free hand over the two pieces, bringing them together with a bit of their own magic.

"You're not in need of it, then?" They ask, just in case.

"I'm sure no one in Camelot, not even my new Mage friend, would take too kindly to the  _very human_ _skull_  at the top of my 'walking stick'."

They chuckle, "Right, yes. Well, thank you for this wonderful gift. May you find your way home, safely, and without much issue."

"Yes. And may  _you_  not fall victim to tiny, accidental lighting strikes I first did with that staff."

The warning doesn't seem to perturb them much, and the two bow to each other before parting ways.

She may not have found one of her companions, but at least she found her things. Things that could help her. Magical things and herbs and trinkets picked up around the wilds that she can sell later for supplies.

Searching wasn't such a useless endeavor today after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah  
> I've taken waaaay too long to update this in any way, shape, or form  
> I'm sorry  
> Here you go

"Your girlfriend is an interesting woman,  _Mer_ lin." Arthur says to the Warlock brings when he brings supper to his chambers. "And quite insubordinate. I can see why the both of you get along so well."

"First of all, she's not my girlfriend." Merlin smirks at the doubtful look Arthur gives him. "And second, she didn't know you were the King when she met you. She's from rather far away."

"And where would that be, exactly?"

"She didn't say. Just that it was far. You could ask her? Or I could, if you'd like?"

"It's just strange."

"How so?"

"Usually, when strangers show up in Camelot, you're immediately suspicious. As am I, lately. Yet you give her your complete trust without even knowing where she's  _from?_ "

"She is kind, overly polite to her elders, and cares deeply for the friends she's lost out in the forest. She was hurt, nearly unconscious and begging for her life, when I found her out there, and seemed just as scared when she woke up the next day."

He says all this as he putters around, tidying up Arthur's room before they both turn in for the night. He doesn't notice the calculating look in Arthur's eyes, nor the slight purse of the King's lips.

"She is of no threat to anyone."

Arthur gives him another doubtful look.

"She is of no threat to anyone unless they attack her first."

"Really?"

Merlin nods, "She told me she's rather good with a bow and arrow."

After a long bout of silent contemplation Arthur concedes. "Alright. Fine. She's not going to try to assassinate me, or steal anything. You've made her case,  _Mer_ lin."

"Thank you, Sire."

"And I'll tell the patrols to keep an eye out for anyone fitting the description of her friends."

Merlin freezes, spinning on his heels to face Arthur with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Really?"

Arthur snorts, "Do you think so little of me as to believe I would leave lost travelers I knew of to the elements?"

"No," Merlin replies, bowing. "Of course not." Then, because he's had then in his back pocket all day, as he needed them to recognize the strangers they'd been looking for, Merlin hands Arthur three pieces of folded parchment and says, "She drew them for me."

A lie. They were made from magic and memory, done in the style her people often used to paint their many murals. She told him so as she made them.

"They were for when we went out today. They're not terribly detailed, but it would be better to show the Knights their faces rather than rely on their imaginations."

Arthur takes them, pouting all the while. "That woman's just  _full_  of surprises, isn't she?"

Merlin simply shrugs and smiles, because this is fairly entertaining. Arthur being jealous, that is. He knows the prat wont say it, ever, but Merlin can see it because he's not as dumb as everyone thinks,  _thank you very much_. So he can easily tell Arthur is only partially suspicious of Mehris, and that mostly, he's not too keen on Merlin making friends outside of himself and the Knights of the Round Table.

He plans on milking the situation, just a little, because Arthur can be a real arse most of the time and maybe  _this_ will get him to back off, even if it's just a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell at me. 
> 
> Don't care if it's cuz you hated it or loved it, just yell at me.


End file.
